


Breathe

by Rod



Category: Hollyoaks
Genre: M/M, Pre-Slash, canon character death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-12
Updated: 2013-02-12
Packaged: 2017-11-29 02:40:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,506
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/681786
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rod/pseuds/Rod
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What if Kieron had been a little more persistent with Ste?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Breathe

**Author's Note:**

> **Timeline:** Autumn 2008, starting just after Ste breaks his leg trying to win back Amy.
> 
> **Disclaimer:** They belong to Lime Pictures and Channel 4, not me. Worse luck.

"Oh, it's you."

Ste Hay didn't bother to hide the dismissiveness he felt. Father Kieron — no, just Kieron the barman now — wasn't the person he wanted showing up on his doorstep.

"And a good evening to you too," Kieron replied cheerily. "I just thought I'd drop round and see how you were doing."

"I'm fine," Ste said sarcastically, leaning pointedly on his crutches. He'd still be wearing the cast on his leg for weeks. "Now that you've seen that, why don't you bugger off home? You're not a priest any more, and I wasn't one of your sheep in the first place."

"That's the only reason I might have to come and visit you?"

"Unless you want people talking about how your boyfriend isn't enough for you any more," Ste shot back. Kieron just looked at him.

Ste sighed. He'd tried that tack in the hospital, and all that it had got him was a brutal reminder that he didn't have any friends. "Come on in, then," he said eventually.

Kieron smiled and let Ste limp on ahead. "I hear you've got Justin Burton crashing here," he said once they were settled.

"What of it?"

Kieron typically didn't rise to the bait. "Just that it must be handy having someone around to fetch and carry when you want."

Ste scowled. "Fat chance," he said. "Justin's only keeping tabs on me 'cos I work for him."

"Ah," Kieron said. There was an awkward pause that Ste did nothing to ease. Kieron might have elbowed his way in, but Ste didn't have to make him welcome. "Have you thought any more about those Anger Management courses I mentioned?" Kieron asked eventually.

"Oh, here it comes," Ste said contemptuously. "Have you brought some more pamphlets with you as well?"

"I just thought—"

"Well, don't! I don't need—"

Ste broke off as the door open and Justin spilled in. "Hi Ste," Justin said. "I stopped off at the chippie on the way here. Do you fancy... oh, hi," he said more quietly as he noticed Kieron.

"Cheers!" Ste said, genuinely pleased. A bit of fish and chips sounded better than having beans on toast again. "Kieron was just sticking his nose in where it isn't wanted," he added, off-hand.

"Oh?" Justin raised an eyebrow at Kieron.

"I just came to let you know that mate of mine is starting one of his courses tonight."

"Courses?"

"Anger Management," Ste filled in, trying to sound as bored as he could.

"Sounds interesting."

"What?" Ste couldn't believe that Justin was actually taking the idea seriously.

"Ste, we spend all day dealing with people who're trying to needle us into doing something stupid. I think picking up a few tips on how to keep my cool would be a good idea."

"Oh. Right." Work, Ste thought sourly. Justin never did anything that wasn't all about their precious jobs.

"Great," Kieron said. "How about you, Ste?"

"Why would I want to go to something like that?"

"Oh I don't know," Justin said deceptively mildly. "Maybe because we spend all day dealing with people who're trying to needle us into doing something stupid."

Ste scowled. He should have seen that coming. Now Justin would be on his case all night.

"If you change your mind, it's on at the East Road community centre, 8 o'clock. Now I'd better get going; if I'm not home soon, John Paul's going to try to cook. I love him dearly, but he can burn water."

Ste ignored Kieron's attempt at levity. "Yeah, well I'd show you to the door, only I'm not getting around so easily at the moment." He shifted, pointedly drawing attention to the cast on his leg.

Justin rolled his eyes. "I'll show you out," he said to Kieron.

"Great," Ste called to their disappearing backs. "Oh and J, while you're up could you stick the kettle on?"

******

Justin was beginning to regret pressuring Ste into coming along. Granted if anyone needed Anger Management training it was Ste, but did he have to be such a pain about it?

"I know how to breathe," Ste was whining at the moment. They'd split up into pairs to practice some of the ideas that Call-Me-Nick, the guy running the course, had introduced them to.

"Then this'll be easy, won't it?" Justin fired back. He looked down at the cheat sheet they'd all been handed again. "Breathe in deeply and let it out slow."

Ste grimaced, but he did breathe in. Then he huffed it all out in one go. Justin glared at him. "Well, what's the point?" Ste grumbled.

"The point," a familiar low voice said with amused patience, "is to buy you time."

"Kieron!" Justin couldn't help but smile. Everyone knew that the ex-priest was a persistent man, but Justin had seen a quietly devious streak at work as well. It took a certain deviousness to talk Ste round to anything, especially anything that was actually good for him.

"You what?" Ste demanded.

"When you feel yourself getting angry, take a deep breath and let it out slowly. That gives you a few seconds to think about what you want to happen, all the rest of the stuff Nick's going to talk about, instead of just being angry. But none of that's going to work if you don't give yourself time."

It made sense to Justin, now it was put that way. Not that Ste would let a little matter like 'making sense' get in the way of a good whine.

"What are you doing here anyway?" Ste asked. "Checking up on us?"

Kieron smiled and shook his head. "I'm just the tea-boy," he explained. "But I'm glad you came all the same. See you later." With that he walked off to have a brief chat with Call-Me-Nick.

Ste snorted. "Well, isn't that a coincidence? I bet this stuff doesn't work anyway."

Justin took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "Well, I do feel a bit less like throttling you."

*******

"Trouble in paradise?"

Ste took a certain vindictive pleasure in seeing Kieron so upset. Normally the man was so confident and superior that Ste had to suppress the urge to thump him. Seeing him stumbling through the streets, almost in tears... well, it did Ste good to know that even Kieron had crap happen to him.

"Shut up, Ste, I'm not in the mood."

"Funny, I don't remember that ever stopping you." Oh yes, this was fun. Ste could see why Kieron did it now.

Kieron actually stopped trying to push past Ste at that. "Look," he said unsteadily, "I've just found my fiancé in a clinch with his ex. I'm really not up to playing games with you right now."

"What's the matter, not got a leaflet for that one?"

For a moment Ste thought he'd gone one taunt too far. Kieron squared up to him, and Ste couldn't help but flinch a little at the look on his face. Then Kieron took a deep breath and closed his eyes. When he opened them again the implied threat was gone, and a glimmer of his usual good humour was there in its place.

"Thanks," Kieron said as if Ste hadn't just been jeering at him.

"What for?" Ste asked, more than a little disconcerted.

"For stopping me," Kieron said. As if Ste had actually cared or something. "For reminding me to think about what's going on between me and John Paul, and that I'm the one who needs to do something."

"If you're planning on having a threesome, I don't want to know," Ste said, meaning every word.

The look on Kieron's face was a treasure to behold, but even that sour little pleasure suddenly became unimportant. Over Kieron's shoulder Ste saw Amy and Josh, arm in arm, walk into the square with little Leah in her pushchair in front of them.

That should be him there, Ste thought. That used to be him there. He loved Amy, he loved Leah to bits, and just the thought of not being around the baby Amy was carrying, _his_ baby... He was halfway to them and calling out Amy's name before he even realised he was moving.

"Ste." Amy stopped, looking uncomfortably anywhere but at him. "I've got nothing to say to you," she said.

"Yeah, well I've got plenty to say to you," Ste said desperately. "Amy, please listen. You know how much Leah means to me, you can't keep me from her. And our kid..." He gestured abortively at Amy's almost invisible bump.

Josh stepped forward protectively. "She doesn't want to talk to you," he said angrily, "so why don't you just get lost and leave her alone."

"Breathe," Kieron murmured before Ste could do anything stupid.

Reflexively, Ste breathed in deeply and let it out slowly. He realised as he did so that much as he wanted to tear Josh's head off for being an interfering little git, that wouldn't go down well with Amy. Instead he forced himself to keep an even voice as he told Josh, "That's her decision, not yours. Please, Amy, I'll change, I swear I will. You know I'd never hurt Leah."

"No, I don't know that any more," Amy said unhappily. "I've heard it all before; you say you love me, you're going to change, you'll make it up to me, you'll make it better, but you never do. You never change, Ste. That's why we have to be over."

"Please, you can't walk away from me." But Amy was doing exactly that, with Josh glaring warningly as he escorted her. She loved him, he knew that, and he loved her and wasn't that supposed to be enough?

Apparently not. "So that's it?" he said weakly, talking to nobody in particular.

"If you let it be," Kieron said gently. "If you don't, I think you're going to have to do all the changing before Amy will believe you."

"I can change," Ste said, but his heart wasn't in it.

"Yeah, you can," Kieron said unexpectedly. "You've already started. Don't underestimate yourself, Ste."

Ste's first instinct was to lash out, because he was hurting and it wasn't like Kieron actually cared. He took a breath.

"Don't underestimate yourself, either," he said.

******

Justin looked at his ringing phone and frowned. Ste had taken off after they'd wrestled a plasma TV back to the office, because they'd run out of both milk and bread that morning. If he was calling to check if Justin liked whatever _Drive 'N Buy_ had on special offer today, Justin wasn't going to let him hear the end of it. "Hey. What's up?"

"Heya. Has anything turned up for this afternoon?"

"No. Why, what's up?"

"I just heard they buried Kieron yesterday." While John Paul would have been at Calvin and Carmel's wedding. Ouch. But why would Ste want to know if they had a job... oh.

"You're going to visit the grave?"

"Why shouldn't I?" Ste asked defensively.

"No, I just mean give us five minutes and I'll come with you," Justin said soothingly.

"What? How come?"

"Because I'm standing outside a flower shop, and I'm betting you haven't got any yet," Justin said. He looked around quickly; there had to be a florist's somewhere nearby.

"Oh, right. Cheers, J. See you at the bus stop, OK?"

"OK." Justin looked thoughtful as he pocketed his phone. A month ago, he'd have been sure that Ste would only have gone in order to sneer at the graveside. Now... well, now Justin didn't know what to expect. Ste had warmed to Kieron, as much as he ever warmed to anyone, and he'd been quiet since news of the suicide had spread. Whether he was going to explode or what, Justin didn't know. He had to be there with Ste, just in case.

******

"We should leave him alone," Justin murmured.

Ste looked at the figure crouched beside the grave. John Paul needed to say his goodbyes, he understood that, but there was something else. Some instinct he'd deny if anyone asked him about it told him not to wait. "Stay here," he told Justin, and stepped forward.

He reached John Paul just in time to see John Paul delete Kieron's number from his phone. Watching those trembling fingers, seeing the tears on John Paul's face, they brought back the sense of emptiness that had hit him when he had first heard the news.

"I love you," John Paul said quietly. "Goodbye." Then he started crying in earnest.

Ste knelt down and hugged him. He didn't even think about it for once; he knew how much John Paul was hurting, and why, and nothing else was important.

"He loved you too," he said eventually, when John Paul wasn't shaking any more.

"Then why—" John Paul's voice cracked, and he had to stop and breathe. "Why did he have to kill himself? Was it my fault?"

Ste took a deep breath. "He didn't off himself. You don't believe that any more than I do."

"But the police said—"

"Stuff what the police said. You know and I know he wouldn't do it." Ste shook his head. "He had to be the most annoying bloke I've ever known. It didn't matter what I did, he wouldn't bugger off and give up on me. He cared about you a lot more than that, so what the hell makes you think he'd give up on you?"

"We were fighting," John Paul said miserably. "I was going to leave him."

"And he was going to fight for you. He told me so." More or less, Ste thought; John Paul didn't need to know the details. "You know him a lot better than me, do you really think he'd drop that load of guilt on you deliberately?"

John Paul was quiet for a long time, and Ste wondered whether he'd got through. Wondered why he cared for that matter; John Paul had been the one to get him arrested, and by rights Ste should be happy to see him crushed like this. He wasn't though; he didn't understand why, but he couldn't ignore John Paul's pain.

"So what happened?" John Paul asked eventually. "What happens now?"

"Dunno," Ste admitted. "I don't even know what could have happened." He stopped, aware that they weren't alone. Jacqui McQueen crouched beside her little brother, and Ste could feel Justin hovering uncertainly behind him. When Jacqui glared at him with a look that promised an abundance of pain if he didn't co-operate immediately, Ste let her take over comforting John Paul.

"I promise you one thing," he said as the McQueens stood. "If I find out anything at all about what happened, you'll be the first person I tell."

John Paul gave him a weak smile and let his sister lead him away.

Watching the McQueens as they left, Ste mentally kicked himself. He'd wasted all that time and energy on someone too thick to figure it out himself, and it wasn't like he'd get anything out of it. John Paul might be a bit grateful, but that wasn't something you could count on or use to put bread on the table, and it was only John Paul, not anyone important or anything, and...

...And Justin was watching him with this strange smile on his face.

"What?" Ste demanded. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong," Justin said, still smiling. "Nothing at all."

******

It was a stupid argument. Justin couldn't remember how it had started any more, except that it was probably his fault. He'd had a long, hard day full of aggressive idiots, and he'd been holding onto the ragged edge of his temper for long enough that he almost certainly wasn't up to being as tactful as he needed to be not to set Ste off.

Of course a day like that meant that Ste's temper was in no better shape than Justin's. One thing lead to another, and before Justin knew it they were shouting at one another. Then Ste had brought Charlie up, and Justin had stopped caring.

"You leave Charlie out of this," he said furiously. There were good reasons why he didn't even try to see his son, but Ste was never going to know what they were.

"Oh, because you care so much about him," Ste taunted. "I'm surprised you even remember you've got a kid."

"At least my kid isn't scared I'll beat him up," Justin shot back.

Ste fairly shook with anger. "You take that back," he demanded, squaring up to Justin. "I've never laid a finger on Leah, and I never will."

Justin stared at him unflinchingly, not the slightest bit intimidated. He was bigger and heavier than Ste, he could handle himself in a fight, and he'd been menaced by Warren Fox. Up against that, Ste made for a laughable threat.

"Only 'cause Amy won't let you near her," he said nastily, wanting to make Ste hurt as much as bringing up Charlie had hurt him.

He wasn't ready for it when Ste pushed him hard. It was stupid really; he was expecting Ste to take a swing, and Ste's surge forwards instead took him by surprise. He stumbled backwards into the wall of their little flat, off-balance and floundering as he tried to keep his feet. He only needed a moment to get himself together, but he could see he wasn't going to get it Ste cocked his fist and took a deep breath.

Then as Justin watched, Ste froze. "Oh God," he whispered, the colour draining from his face. He unclenched his fists, reaching out towards Justin but not quite daring to touch him. "Oh God, I didn't mean... I... I've got to go."

"Ste!" By the time Justin regained his balance, Ste had grabbed his coat and was out of the door. Justin hurried outside and shouted again, but it was no use. Ste was nowhere in sight.

Anger forgotten, Justin wondered what the hell had just happened.

******

_Breathe._

He'd heard it as clearly as if Kieron had been standing behind him, whispering in his ear. And in that moment it hadn't been Justin in front of him, off-balance and defensive; it had been Amy, clutching little Leah to her.

He'd fled. Wild horses would never get him to admit it, but he couldn't cope with losing it again and hitting someone, even Justin. He'd had to get out of there; there were too many memories in the flat.

He'd wandered around on autopilot, no idea where his feet were taking him, head in a whirl. He'd sworn he'd never do that again. He had loved Amy — he still loved Amy — and he'd hit her. Even after he'd promised her he wouldn't, he still hit her. And now he'd gone and done exactly the same thing with Justin, and he didn't even like Justin.

OK, that wasn't true. He did like Justin, but it wasn't the same. Justin could look after himself, for one thing. The two of them were a partnership; they covered for each other, they had each other's backs, and they got on well. When Justin was being a grumpy gus, Ste knew how to put a smile on his face. And when Ste lost it, Justin knew how to take care of himself.

Except that he hadn't. And he shouldn't have had to. Ste shouldn't be a threat to the people he cared about, he knew that. Apparently knowing it and doing something about it were two different things, though. What did he have to do to get it through his thick head?

Ste looked up to find himself in front of a church. He didn't have much time for religion — all it had ever done for him was to tell his mum to stick with Terry and get battered some more — but this place looked dilapidated and disused, as unloved and unlovable as he felt. He made his way round to a side door and jimmied his way inside. At least it would be shelter while he tried to get his head together, he reckoned.

Once inside, Ste froze. There were low lights in the church that he hadn't seen from the outside, and voices talking. Angry voices, or at least one of them was; low, male and demanding. Ste was going to back out, not wanting any part of someone else's trouble, but then he heard a woman answer, voice full of unhappiness; "That doesn't mean I don't care!"

It was too much. Just the sound of the argument was too close to home, too close to what was rattling around in his head, too close to pain he'd inflicted himself without ever meaning to. No matter how much he wanted to, he couldn't leave after hearing that.

Edging slowly in, Ste peered cautiously around a doorway and stopped in surprise. There was Myra McQueen, tears running down her face, looking very small and defeated in the low light. Standing over her and haranguing her viciously was Niall the hairdresser. Ste had no idea what was going on, but he could feel the anger and hatred coming off Niall in terrifying waves. God, if that was what he looked like, Ste thought, no wonder Amy didn't want anything to do with him. Around them, the rest of the McQueens sat apparently tied to the railing, a mix of anger and fear on their faces. Niall brandished a small box at the siblings, and Ste's eyes widened as he realised exactly what was going on.

A bomb. Ste took a breath and forced down his panic. Niall had explosives somewhere around the place, and by the sound of it he was threatening to kill the McQueens if Myra didn't play along with him. This was too much. Ste had been involved in some hairy stuff, but nothing like this. He had to get out of there, phone the police... except he had no idea where he was, and he'd left his phone behind when he'd fled the flat. It was down to him, and there wasn't anything he could do.

"...another question for you," Niall growled, waving the box threateningly. "Is there ever a good reason for a mother to give away her son?"

_Breathe._

"Yes."

******

John Paul looked up, startled briefly into hope. Then he saw Ste Hay standing there behind the altar, looking nervous as all hell but determined, and his heart sank. Ste was the last person he'd expected to see, and the most unreliable person he could have imagined turning up. What the hell was he doing there at all?

"Yes, there is," Ste continued firmly. "If my mother had given me away, maybe I wouldn't have learned that it's OK for me to smack the people I love around. If she'd abandoned me, maybe I might have done some good. Maybe I wouldn't have grown up to be such a waste of space."

"What the hell are you doing here?" It was the question on everyone's lips, John Paul thought, but Niall held all the cards here. His brother — and John Paul would never get used to that idea — his brother loomed over Ste, and he fully expected Ste to break and run.

Instead, Ste smiled slightly and even seemed to calm down a little. "It was that or listen to you whinging on," he said, walking round the altar to confront Niall. "Honestly, talk about a broken record. So you've never heard your Mum tell you she loves you, so what? Mine told me she did, then turned round and walked off with all our money."

Niall didn't quite seem to know what to do about this. Honestly, John Paul couldn't blame him for that; this was so unlike the feckless tearaway he knew Ste was that he had no idea what to expect now. Unfortunately, what Niall fell back on was terrorising his mum.

"A mother's love is supposed to be unconditional, isn't it?" Niall snarled, moving back over to her.

Ste rolled his eyes. "That's the way it is, is it?" he asked. "You know, if you asked her right now if she loved you, she'd say 'yes' and she'd mean it, for all you've done."

"Oh, you don't know the half of what I've done," Niall said dangerously.

"Yeah," Ste said. His voice was suddenly lower and huskier than his usual nasal whine, and his face was deadly serious. "Yes I do know. And I forgive you, mate."

Niall stared at Ste like an animal caught in headlights. So did John Paul for that matter. That voice was achingly familiar to him, and even the way Ste was standing brought back painful memories. "Kieron?" he breathed.

Then Ste blinked, and his whole attitude changed. "Oh God," he said, horrified, "you did. The one person who actually gave a crap about me and you had to go and kill him. And I can't even hate you for it, 'cos he'd forgive you."

It was true. John Paul didn't know how he knew it, but he did; Niall had murdered Kieron somehow. It hurt to even think about Kieron, and it hurt even more to think how they'd both trusted Niall, but John Paul took some comfort from knowing that Kieron hadn't taken his own life. Whether he'd be able to forgive Niall for that betrayal, that was another matter.

Niall was still staring at Ste, caught between fear and guilt. He looked like he was trying to recapture the anger and bitterness he'd been justifying himself with, but Ste didn't give him a chance.

"It's not fair," Ste said quietly, reaching out to Niall. "Why do you get all the second chances?"

Then he was holding Niall and both of them were crying, and it took John Paul a long moment to realise that it was over. As his mum crawled over to comfort Niall, he saw Mercedes lip curl and glared hard at her, hoping that she'd notice and keep her big mouth shut. He didn't know what he felt about Niall, but he knew better than to throw fuel on that particular fire, and whatever Mercedes was about to say wouldn't be tactful. Fortunately Jacqui had the same idea, even though she was fuming herself, and between his glare and the sharp kick Jacqui gave her, Mercedes took the hint and shut up.

"You can't forgive me," Niall protested. "Not after all I've done."

"Yes I can, love," their mother told him, "and so will this lot if they know what's good for them. It doesn't mean there won't be a reckoning, but you're my son. How could I not forgive you?" She pulled him into a hug, rocking him gently.

Ste was left looking lost and alone. Somehow he'd ended up holding the control box, and for a moment John Paul was afraid that they'd just swapped one psycho for another. Then his mum smiled across Ste. "Thanks, love," she said. "You're a better man than you think." She let that sink in for a moment before nodding towards where Jacqui was irritably trying to untie herself again. "Do you think you could...?"

"Oh, sure." Ste seemed dazed, all the authority and confidence that had faced down Niall without blinking now gone. He fumbled his way over to Jacqui and freed her, then moved on to John Paul.

"Thanks," John Paul said quietly, trying not to disturb his mother and brother. Once his wrists were free, he put a hand on Ste's shoulder to stop him. "How...?" It was difficult even to articulate the questions he had. "How did you know that about Kieron? How did you do that? What just happened?"

"I don't know," Ste told him, and John Paul couldn't miss the note of fear in his voice. "I just took a breath and said the first thing that came into my head. I had no idea what I was doing."

"You did brilliantly," John Paul told him. Maybe he'd just wanted to hear what he'd heard, fooled himself into hearing Kieron's voice when Ste had spoken, or maybe it had been real; he'd never be sure one way or another, and he knew he'd only get contradictory lectures off his siblings if he asked them. All he could be certain of was that his life had been saved by the least likely person he could think of. Even that, Kieron would have said, was pretty damn miraculous.

******

"Come on," Ste said, shepherding Tina and Mercedes out of the derelict church. He was keeping busy, keeping moving, doing anything that he could to avoid thinking, because if he thought about what he'd just done he was going to fall apart.

He'd had absolutely no idea what he was doing. He'd just opened his big gob and let the words spill out, terrified that he was going to get it wrong and be blown up beside the McQueens, and no one would miss him. Then he'd just known about Kieron, how everything made sense if Niall had done it, and he hadn't meant to say anything but those words had burst out anyway, and he felt the weight of every single one of them like lead in his stomach.

Niall had killed Kieron. And Kieron wouldn't have held it against him.

"Hey, stop pushing," Mercedes complained. "Some of us have been cooped up in there a week. My legs are killing me."

"Going days without a shag must have been terrible for you," Ste shot back. His heart wasn't in the insult, though; he was a tiny bit grateful to Mercedes for derailing his train of thought again. He didn't want to be wondering why Niall got all those chances to throw away while he didn't.

"Oh, ignore her," Tina said, "she's always this ungrateful." Mercedes actually seemed to be lost for words with the pair of them, but Tina smoothly suited actions to words. "Can I borrow your phone?" she asked.

"D'you seriously think I'd have walked into that if I'd got my phone with me?"

"Oh." Tina thought about it for about two seconds before making Ste feel very stupid. "I suppose I'll have to flag down a passing motorist. I really need to find out what happened to Max, and we ought to call the police so that—"

She was cut off by a cry from across the churchyard. Dom and Tony were hurrying over, and Ste couldn't help feeling a bit more foolish; if he'd waited for five minutes the cavalry would have arrived. He couldn't imagine the straight-laced brothers not calling the police, and he was sure he could hear sirens slowly coming closer.

Dom hugged Tina, who couldn't seem to decide whether to be pleased or upset that he was being so obsessive about whether she was hurt. Tony was much more agitated, and Ste couldn't blame him.

"What's going on," Tony asked Mercedes. "Where's Jacqui? Is she OK? Has Niall...?"

"What are you asking me for?" Mercedes asked disdainfully. "He's the hero of the flipppin' hour." Only she made it sound like an insult.

Ste was saved having to deal with Tony when Jacqui appeared, steering a shocked Michaela in front of her. John Paul and Carmel were right behind them. Tony immediately headed for Jacqui, and Ste drifted along behind him. Tina had Dom fussing over her and Mercedes was being Mercedes, so Ste reckoned following along had to be a better bet than staying put.

"Ste," Carmel said as he reached them, "I just wanted to say that what you did in there was really brave, and really dangerous. I mean... oh, I'm no good with words. Come here."

Suddenly Ste found himself being enveloped in a huge hug. Carmel wasn't a big woman, but there seemed to be more than enough of her to go around. It was quite nice, Ste thought as the shock wore off. He could get used to being hugged by McQueens.

"Thank you," Carmel murmured, and kissed him on the cheek before letting go. Ste shuffled embarrassedly. He'd always wanted to get praise for what he did, but now he was getting it he didn't know what to do. His emotions were all over the place anyway, one moment elated and the next scared shitless, and somehow this wasn't really helping.

John Paul punched him lightly on the shoulder. "I'd do the same," he told Ste, "but I wouldn't want you to get the wrong idea." Ste tried to glare at him, but he couldn't stop grinning.

He was saved from further embarrassment by Jacqui. "Mum," she bellowed, "where have you got to?"

"Alright, alright," Myra said, appearing at the doorway. "I'm here, keep your hair on."

"Where's Niall?" There was no mistaking the contempt in Jacqui's voice.

"He just needed a moment to himself, poor dear. He'll be out in a minute."

"Aye, sneaking out the back way most likely!"

"Jacqui!" Myra said sharply. "That poor boy's been through a lot, and we weren't there for him for most of it. This family is not going to give up on him now, not when I've just got him back."

"Oh come on, Mum," Jacqui said. "Do you seriously think he isn't going to try to get away with this?"

Her answer was a dull roar and rumbling noise from the building. "Oh God," Myra said, her face ashen, "he set off the explosives." Before any of her children could stop her, she disappeared back inside the church.

Ste followed her. He didn't even think about the danger. All he cared about was that Niall was trying to take the easy way out, and there was no way Ste was going to let him. He'd killed Kieron, and while Ste might be supposed to forgive him, he wasn't about to let Niall forget.

Niall was lying serenely in the rubble of the chancel. He was still conscious, and he didn't seem the least bit bothered that his legs wpere trapped by a large piece of fallen masonry. Around him the building creaked and groaned, threatening to collapse at any moment.

"Niall!" Myra shouted.

Niall looked over, and abruptly became a lot less serene. "No," he said, agitated, "you're not supposed to be here. You've got to get out of here."

"Fat chance of that," Ste muttered, tugging at the stonework.

"Please, Mum," Niall said, and Ste could see how much it cost him to say it. "Please, save yourself."

Myra knelt beside her oldest and smoothed his hair. "Not without you, love," she said quietly.

Ste pulled and pushed, but he couldn't budge the stone trapping Niall. John Paul appeared beside him, a shower of plaster dust falling on the pair of them ominously. "Can't shift it," Ste gasped.

"We need a lever," John Paul said, looking round. "There..."

Moments later they were jamming the end of a broken pew under the stone and heaving for all they were worth. Ste felt it move, and saw Myra try to pull the uncooperative Niall clear. "I've got it," he told John Paul through gritted teeth. "Go help your mum."

For the next few seconds, nothing existed for Ste except the weight on his shoulder trying to drive him into the ground, and his determination that it wasn't going to succeed. Then distantly he heard John Paul say, "We're clear," and opened his eyes to see that Niall was indeed well away from the debris.

John Paul was looking up, however, and looking scared with it. "Ste!" he yelled. "Move!"

Ste didn't stop to look. He could already hear the scream of protesting masonry as it started to come apart above him. He tossed the makeshift lever aside and turned to run, but he felt his ankle twist as he moved, and he knew he was falling and there was no way he'd get away in time.

Then strong hands grabbed his belt before he could hit the floor and heaved him clear. A pile of stonework, more than enough to kill him, fell close enough for him to feel the breeze. Ste was shocked enough not to protest as he was hoisted onto his rescuer's shoulder like some damsel in distress and carried out of the church.

It wasn't until he was carefully put down outside that Ste got to see that it was Justin who had carried him out. "Are you OK?" Justin asked anxiously.

Ste's stomach did a little flip. He'd never seen Justin look this worried before. "I'm fine," he said, and tried to stand up. His ankle immediately put the lie to that, and he found himself promptly sat back down with Justin checking him over as conscientiously as Dom had been checking Tina earlier.

"It's my ankle, I think I just twisted it," he said as evenly as he could. It felt weird; usually Justin was the one being calm and collected while he fell to pieces.

Justin examined his ankle carefully, evidently not satisfied with Ste's self-diagnosis. "You sit here until one of the ambulance men's had a look at this," he said eventually. "I don't want to risk you walking around in case you've broken it."

"Don't worry," Ste said soothingly, "I've done my good deed for the day. How did you find me here anyway?" he asked, trying to distract Justin.

"I just looked for the biggest disaster I could find," Justin said severely, his face closing up. Ste prepared himself for the lecture he knew was coming next.

He was completely unprepared when Justin hugged him. "You _idiot_ ," Justin said in his ear. "Don't you ever do anything like that again. What the hell made you think that was a good idea? You could have been killed!"

There was more, listing just how stupid Ste had been going into the church the first time never mind the second, but Ste had stopped listening to the words. Justin's tone told a different story, and Ste couldn't help but think of other voices, other words.

_"Thanks. For stopping me."_  
 _"You're a better man than you think._ "  
 _"The one person who actually gave a crap about me..."_  
 _"Nothing's wrong. Nothing at all."_  
 _"I'd do the same, but I wouldn't want you to get the wrong idea."_  
 _"Maybe I wouldn't have learned that it's OK for me to smack the people I love around."_

What if he had got the wrong idea? Did he want it to be right idea anyway? Did he dare risk it?

_"Breathe."_

Ste took a deep breath, let it out slowly, and smiled. He knew what answer he wanted, and there was only one way to find out if it was the right one. Slowly, he pushed away from Justin's hug so that they could see each other's faces.

"Why are you smiling?" Justin asked suspiciously. Ste could see just a hint of tears in his eyes, and knew he was right. "I swear, Ste, if you think this is some kind of joke—"

Ste kissed him.


End file.
